


The first cut is the deepest

by copacetic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Camping, F/M, M/M, Soulmates, i just want isaac to be happy and have a puppy ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 03:05:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copacetic/pseuds/copacetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erica rolls down the passenger window on the minivan as they pull up in his driveway. "Get in, loser." She grins, bright and sharp. "We're going camping."</p><p>Stiles gestures wildly. "You rented a minivan? I'm riding with Scott." </p><p>Isaac slides open the door and takes his picture mid-gesticulation. He peers at the little screen contentedly while Stiles throws his tent and duffel bag under the seat. He is stuck in the back with Nymeria, who has the most awful dog breath.</p><p>"You all are the worst." He whines as Derek backs up the van. Nymeria licks his ear companionably.</p><p>Isaac takes his picture again, and smirks like only he knows the joke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The first cut is the deepest

Stiles doesn't look up when he hears the back door open. 

"There's meatloaf in the fridge." He says conversationally, when he hears someone stepping into the kitchen. He knows its Derek from the quiet looming. "Made with real meat this time, too."

Derek grunts in acknowledgement, moving past the kitchen table with its heaps of papers and toward the fridge. The low light catches on the handcuffs on his belt, the burst of warm air from the open door accompanying him. 

It's starting to get warm in the evenings in Beacon Hills. Stiles can't wait for the summer to start. He's gotten through his first year of teaching by the seat of his pants. The kids came close to a pig head on a stick several times, and he would like to be more prepared for next year.

Stiles moves over some books for Derek to put his bowl down at the kitchen table, then goes back to frowning at his lesson plan. He's chewing on his pen when he looks up. "Would Isaac like some dinner too?" 

Derek shakes his head. "He ate earlier. Busy with a new table." He eats as quietly as he ever does. Stiles goes back to scribbling notes. Finally he gets to a good stopping point, and shelves it for now. He still has a few more short stories to read, the last things he has to grade before the end of the year.  
"That's a lot of glitter on one page." Derek says, nodding at one of the stories Stiles pulls out.

He squints at it. "It's a story about a caveman, which is unexpected. I left the subject up to the kids, mostly they picked spaceships. I think Andrea is going to get points for that. And the glitter. Cavemen should be fabulous. Also, points for spelling Neanderthal and Denisovan right. I don't think I could have done that when I was nine."

Derek nods, goes back to eating. It's usually about as much as he ever says when he comes over.

He's rinsed the bowl and is putting it in the dishwasher when he asks. "You still have that tent?" Stiles nods without thinking about it. "Good. We're going camping in two weeks."

Stiles looks up. "Camping?" Derek's already almost past him on his way out the door. 

"Up in Oregon." Derek's already out of the door, the fast bastard, like he knows what Stiles is about to say. 

 

"I don't want to go camping!"

"Can you get the shampoo for me?" Scott points. Stiles grabs it from the bathroom cabinet and hands it over. "Why doesn't your uncle want to go camping, now then?" He coos to Lya, who giggles and tries to grab the bottle. 

"Her uncle doesn't want to go camping because. Because! Why are we going camping?"

Scott looks up when he's done washing her hair. He's perched on the edge of the bathtub while Stiles is standing in the doorway. "It's a pack gathering. There's other packs that will be there- the Szabos, the Wells. A few other small packs. It'll be fun." He sprays detangler in Lya's hair and combs it while she industriously bangs rubber duckies together. 

"What if I don't want to go to a pack gathering?"

Scott doesn't act like he hears him. "There will be lots of other kids for Lya to play with, and the workshops are all really fun. You weren't at the last one, but everyone had a good time." Here he stops, looks up absently from Lya's hair. He goes back to gently combing it after a moment's thought. "Well, not Derek. But nothing made him very happy that year."

Stiles looks down for a second, then rallies. "What if you guys go without me?"

Scott starts draining the bath, pulls out the towel on his lap and sets Lya on it. She laughs as he dries her off, then runs away to be a free naked toddler for as long as she can. Scott stands up, looks at Stiles. Stiles drops his eyes. "I haven't gone camping in years. I don't like it." 

Scott looks at him like he's thinking about it, but doesn't call him out on the lie. "I have to put Lya to bed. You want to come back and play Halo in an hour?" 

Stiles sighed, ran his hands over his hair. "No, but thanks. Maybe tomorrow? Tonight's a school night." 

As he left Scott's house for the arduous walk three houses down to his own house, Allison pulls up in the driveway. She gets out of the car loaded with books. Stiles walks down, helps her with the books. 

"If I see one of these titled 'writing a thesis for dummies', I'm going to think way less of you." Stiles says as he navigates their porch. 

Allison laughs as she opens the door. "I have a while until that, you know. Lydia should be defending soon, I can ask her for advice when she's back in town." Stiles can hear Scott still upstairs, reading Where The Wild Things Are to Lya in her bed.

Stiles swallows, wonders if she's noticed. "For the camping trip?"

Allison puts down her keys, puts the textbooks down on the kitchen table. "The last one was so much fun! Lya is going to have a great time with the other kids." She looks up, questioning. "Are you not excited?"

Sometimes, he hates that his best friend married such a perceptive woman. "It's just inconvenient timing! I mean, I have so much to do to get ready for next year." Her gaze sharpens. "Plus, I hate camping. Peeing outside? Bears? No way."

"They have latrines, and camping with werewolves is a good way to not worry about bears." She pauses, qualifies, "Granted, you might be worried about werewolves."

He looks down. "I just don't want to, ok?"

Allison starts making sandwiches. Three, he notices. "Ok. Maybe ask Erica? She might be willing to stay behind."

"Why would I need someone to stay behind?"

Allison rolls her eyes. "If you think Derek will be ok with you staying here alone, you have another think coming." 

Stiles whines. "I can protect myself! The sheriff's department can still keep Beacon Hills from falling into chaos without its newest deputy." 

Allison gives him an odd look as she puts the sandwiches on plates. "Derek wouldn't be worried about Beacon Hills getting hurt, Stiles." He opens his mouth to ask what she means, but Scott comes down the stairs and takes two sandwiches. Allison takes a bite out of hers and Stiles tries not to look disappointed about missing out. "Either way, ask Erica." 

 

Erica teaches class on Friday evenings until late, so Stiles doesn't get to see her until Saturday morning. He drops by the dojo before her first class. He brings her a fancy mocha to sweeten her up, but as soon as she sees it the gig is up.

She waits to tell him this until she already has the mocha, of course. 

"Thanks, but I'm not staying. You have to go with us." Her legs stretch out under the desk and she tips her chair back. Nobody else is there yet, he managed to get there while she was still setting up for the day. She tips up the cup and grins, fangs glinting. "Thanks for the mocha, though." She manages to sip it and show off her cleavage insolently. In her shapeless robe, it's really a talent. 

"Look, hear me out." Stiles looks around for eavesdroppers, although anybody sneaking up on a werewolf trained in judo probably won't be that easily detected. have never been able to find a good handle on you, but I can owe you a favor. What do you want?"

She purses her lips, shakes her head. "I like you well enough, Stilinski, and the idea of a favor is interesting, but I'm not going against my alpha. I like going, anyway, the workshops are good. I was planning on leading one anyway." She sets the cup down on the desk. "You can try bribing Isaac."

Stiles face palms. "I hate that store." 

 

He finds Isaac in his and Derek's backyard, frowning at a sawed section of tree trunk like it has personally offended him. It's a beautiful spring day, full of sunshine, and Stiles decided to park at his house and walk down to theirs. Isaac is in jeans and a filthy shirt that looks like it started out white. Nymeria is at his feet, lolling in the grass. "Oh, hey." He turns and smiles easily. Nymeria lifts her head and sniffs ladylike at Stiles' hand. He pats his pockets for a dog treat. "Look at this, there are termites in it already. I was going to make another table, but this might end up just being compost." Isaac sighs, scrubs his face with his hand, which just serves to move more dirt from his hand to his face. "Are you excited about Oregon?"

Stiles rubs Nymeria's ears. "About that." Isaac raises his eyebrows. "I don't really want to go. Everybody has this idea that I can't be left here alone without pack, and-"

Isaac is already shaking his head. "No, I won't stay here with you," Stiles opens his mouth again but Isaac keeps talking, "And before you offer to take me, I have plenty of supplies and nobody else will take good enough photos. They'll turn the flash on or won't use the right filter, and everybody will have lensflares over their faces. I'm working on a new album, and I want good photos of this trip. Last time Derek kept looking like I had bitten him in the leg." At Stiles' expression, he shakes his head. "Which I hadn't. Much. The football game doesn't count."

"There's going to be football?" 

Isaac shrugged. "Usually only the werewolves play. It's a long way to the nearest ER. Everybody plays capture the flag, though."

"Capture the flag." Stiles says weakly. 

He nods happily. "I'm planning a whole page just for the football match, and another for capture the flag. I already ordered the stickers from etsy."  
At this Stiles gives up. He hates the scrap booking section anyway. All the old ladies tried to hit on him while Isaac blissfully talked about Pinterest to the other old ladies. If Isaac had ordered stickers online anyway, he couldn't tempt him with the local sources. 

That leaves Lydia, who would laugh in his face. Anyway, she won't be coming home from MIT until they are ready to leave.

"When is Boyd coming back to town?" He attempts.

Isaac smiles like he knows exactly what he's thinking, and likes to watch him squirm. "He's going to meet us up there. He just sent me a postcard from Rome, would you like to see it? I'm saving it for this year's book." 

 

Stiles graciously accepts defeat, and drags his feet all the way back to Scott's house. He plays catch with Lya and Allison in their yard for the rest of the morning. Scott had to be at practice. Lya runs around gleefully, shouting she was going to be good at lacrosse just like her daddy. After lunch, Lya goes down for her nap, and Scott comes home. Stiles stayes in the kitchen to wash dishes.

Stiles wrinkles his nose at Scott's uniform as he kisses Allison hello. "It's still weird to call you Coach McCall. I can't get over it."

Scott smiles, easy and loose. "It's weirder to say Principal Finstock, believe me." Stiles sets the last glass out to dry, and nods fervently in agreement. "So are you happy yet about going to Oregon? You used to-"

"I used to do a lot of things." Stiles cuts him off, feeling a twinge of guilt at Scott's expression. Allison's face tells him that she noticed. He crosses his arms, leans against the sink. "I'm going to get going, still have lesson plans to do. So yeah, see you tomorrow?" 

Pretending not to see the understanding look in Scott's eyes, he almost runs out to his house and its blissful silence. 

 

Stiles has given up on work and is just about ready to go when he hears a car pull up in the driveway. He knows who it is before he sees the distinctive sheriff's coloring. He grabs his keys and resolves to be brisk and short. 

He walks out to his car, parked in the driveway. Derek is already out of the cruiser and is half sitting on the hood of Stiles' car. "Evening." He calls out, cool as if he hasn't parked Stiles in.

Stiles raises his keys meaningfully. "I'm just about to go to my dad's. Mind moving your car?" Derek just looks at him, with what Stiles recognizes as his Patient Alpha expression. Stiles thinks he's practiced in front of a mirror- some of his expressions seem affected. Mostly the non-murderous ones.

He huffs a sigh and leans against the hood, next to Derek. There's a long period of silence. Stiles still doesn't know what to make of Derek the vast majority of the time, and doesn't know what to say now. Derek doesn't look at him, just studies the sky. 

The crickets, the clicking of the cruiser's engine as it cools, the chill of the air as the warm spring day fades, wrap around them. Stiles thinks of two, three things to say, a dozen, and discards them all. He can't tell Derek why he doesn't want to go, it's one of the few things he has left-

"Your mother used to take you." Derek says, no question in his words. He still doesn't look at him.

Stiles feels the prickle behind his eyes. "Scott told you." Derek is already shaking his head. Finally, Derek looks over. 

This isn't an expression Derek has practiced. Stiles breaks after a few seconds, looks away, blinking rapidly. He feels warmth on his arm as Derek moves closer, just barely leans against him, shoulders brushing. Even through their layers of clothes, the touch feels sharp and immediate.

Derek hasn't touched him in years. Not since- well. Years.

He doesn't cry, not really, but his breath comes quick and a few tears leak out. Derek scoots back as soon as Stiles breathes out the last of it. Finally, Stiles looks back at his face. Derek just looks- patient, like he's got all the time in the world.

"I don't like doing things that she liked to do without her." He offers, knowing it sounds weak. Derek just nods, like it makes total sense. 

"It doesn't really get better, does it. It just surprises you less." He waits for Stiles to nod. "I won't make you go if you don't want."

Stiles considers it, but knows already what he's going to do.

 

Erica rolls down the passenger window on the minivan as they pull up in his driveway. "Get in, loser." She grins, bright and sharp. "We're going camping."  
Stiles gestures wildly. "You rented a minivan? I'm riding with Scott." 

Isaac slides open the door and takes his picture mid-gesticulation. He peers at the little screen contentedly while Stiles throws his tent and duffel bag under the seat. He is stuck in the back with Nymeria, who has the most awful dog breath.

"You all are the worst." He whines as Derek backs up the van. Nymeria licks his ear companionably.

Isaac takes his picture again, and smirks like only he knows the joke.

 

They are driving past the other packs setting up their sites when Stiles connects the dots. When you take an average person, give them supernatural powers and a monthly cycle of getting back to nature and a deep love of running around naked in the woods, you tend to get a person best described as 'dirty hippie.' He hasn't seen this many people with dreadlocks since- well, never. They had been talking about the inter-pack activities on the ride over, and they finally make sense. The workshops have titles like 'Compost and You', 'Passing For Human- Worth It?', and Isaac is leading one called 'Sustainable Agriculture in an Urban Setting'. Erica's workshop, as she informs Stiles as they are setting up the tents, is in martial arts. 

Stiles does not remember his tent being so damned difficult to set up. He narrowly dodges a rebounding pole as he asks, "Why do werewolves need self defense classes? Aren't you more dangerous than most other things out there?"

Erica shows her teeth, which is not the same as smiling. "It's easier to explain to law enforcement-" here she slyly looks at Derek lurking around the perimeter of their camp site- "Not that that's necessary in our town- but it's easier to explain bruises than claw marks."

Lya and Isaac barrel through, Lya's chubby hands barely holding on to his head from her perch on his shoulders. They are both shrieking. Isaac shouts, "I claim this campsite in the name of the Hale pack!" and dashes off into the surrounding trees. Scott and Allison are watching tolerantly from their site a few yards away. Scott is clearly not having much success with his tent, either. 

Lydia and Boyd arrive in Lydia's car. Boyd is grinning, slapping backs, and wrestling Lya (and losing) immediately. Lydia surveys Stiles' attempt at his tent and clearly finds it unsatisfactory. Clearly, engineering agrees with her. 

When a young lady quietly slips into their campsite, Isaac smiles like it's his birthday. Lya hangs back a little, but Isaac slides up to the mystery woman and presents the toddler. Scott snorts behind Stiles. "Showing off his child rearing skills with my child? What is this?" He mutters good naturedly.

Derek walks over to the newcomer, reserved and polite. "Rose. I hope I find you well?"

She grins, tickles Lya's feet. "Mary says hello, and to come visit whenever you want to lose at football." Isaac sidles closer and Rose smiles, soft and sweet, at him.

"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies." Scott bumps shoulders with him. 

"Isaac has- a girlfriend?" The others can hear him, he knows, but Isaac and Rose seem only interested in each other. Rose is tiny, with an orange sun dress that clashes horribly with her long red hair.

"I think she prefers lady friend. But yeah. We met her last time. The Wells are based out of Montana, so it's a bit of a drive."

Stiles feels cheated, somehow. "How could I not know this?" He asks plaintively. "He doesn't even have a scrapbook for her."

Scott gives him the side eye. "He keeps it in his room. And there's a lot you don't know."

Stiles gives him a vicious noogie for that. Lya and Allison jump in to help.

 

Derek leaves to make formal introductions to the other alphas. It's already late in the day, shadows of the tall trees long and cold. Isaac and Rose leave with Nymeria. Members of other packs drift by, introduce themselves. Some stay, some leave. He notices people giving Allison a respectful distance, but it doesn't seem to bother her. 

Stiles finds that he's genuinely enjoying meeting other packs. He likes being out in the wilderness. His mom used to love backpacking, but it's bittersweet now to be out here again. It still hurts, but it reminds him of how much he loved her. 

He learns that there's a hall just down the road with a big kitchen and dining hall, and the latrines are down the other direction. Scott starts a fire in their firepit. Boyd pulls out a bottle of cinnamon liquor he picked up in Europe, and Lydia brings out vodka.

He finds himself enjoying the campfire, the vodka warming his stomach and his skin. Boyd is talking about Prague to Allison, Lya sleeping in Scott's arms. He looks at Scott and Allison sitting together, barely touching, and for some unfathomable reason his jealousy reaches up and chokes him.

He's always vaguely jealous of them, but suddenly it's so sharp he can barely breathe. The closest he's ever come has been a few months long relationships in college. But even when things were good and he felt like he should feel happy- he wasn't. And he knew perfectly well why, when he let himself look at it directly.

Derek.

It had always been a low simmer in high school. Sometimes he thought he had made the whole thing up out of the supernatural drama llamas that made up his and Scott's time in high school. Once you had genuinely saved someone's life, everything else seemed boring. And when Derek finally offered to protect them and the people they loved, instead of lurking, threatening, and then lurking some more- that's when they became pack.

And Stiles thought that he might have a place to belong. Somebody to belong to. 

If he thought that conversations were becoming more pleasant, silences were becoming more companionable, that Derek was looking forward to seeing him on breaks from college and then the academy, well. Stiles can't really blame himself. Derek has grown into his skin. After they started to trust each other, friendship and family became the same thing. Stiles just has a hard time not over thinking things.

Ask Scott. 

Stiles' sophomore year of college, when he was home from college over Christmas, he decided to nut up and ask Derek out. 

He initially thought it was going well. When he saw Derek at the station, he smiled at him. Well, as much as Derek ever smiled. A softening around the eyes, maybe. But Stiles now knows that it was just because he had a family again. 

It wasn't anything to do with Stiles. Why would it be?

At the diner for pancakes, he sat next to him. Isaac smiled at everyone, tentative still. Lydia sighed and drew diagrams on the napkins. Scott and Allison were smiling all the time, talking about their wedding planning. Erica and Boyd were talking, laughing about what they had done and what they planned to do.

Stiles couldn't contain his happiness. Derek was next to him, arm brushing up against his. Even if he didn't hardly talk, he was there. Stiles treasured that moment, stil. The warmth of the diner, the cold December air outside, the smell of pancakes. The brush of Derek's arm, the feeling of being warm and safe. And happy.

Derek offered to drive him home. Stiles was so sure that this was it. The time is now! Sweet kisses and embarassing pet names and long dinners and-

That was what really twisted the knife, later. How could he have misread it so badly? How could it have been so good, and then gone so very wrong?

Stiles rambled happily as they drove. He was in the middle of a discourse on the history of teaching language when Derek pulled the car into Stiles's driveway. His house was dark, his dad still at work.

Something about Derek's expression made him quiet, made him stop. Derek was looking at the steering wheel like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

"Derek?" He prompted. 

Derek looks up toward the windshield, back down. "There's something you should know about werewolves."

After nothing seemed forthcoming, Stiles decided to push. "And their-" he struggled for words, "mates?" He could still embarrass him. This could be fun, even. "I've done a lot of research, I know."

Derek closed his eyes, like it was painful for Stiles to bring it up. "It's not just about- about choice. We can't choose like humans do."

Stiles' stomach fell. He could feel his heartbeat speeding up. Derek's eyes opened and he just looked miserable. "What- what do you mean?"

"I mean, there's some choice. I don't imprint on- on somebody- and that's it, that's the only one." The words came out in a rush. "We have to choose between who we recognize as compatible. You're young, and- and I can't, I won't force-" 

Stiles nodded, jerkily. "No, no, no. I get it. I- I get it." Derek's not compatible with him, and he can't make himself compatible. 

All this, all this time, all this happiness- it didn't mean what he thought it meant.

Derek looked up at him. "You do?" His eyes looked shocked, open and vulnerable. "Then, you want-"

Stiles nodded again, decisively. He could at least stop Derek feeling so uncomfortable around him. "Friends." He said. He could do this for Derek. It'll kill him, but- he can do it.

"Friends." Derek sighed, his shoulders sloping down. Stiles didn't wait around to rub salt in the wound any more, opened the door and practically ran in the house.

If he avoided Derek for over a year, that was his own problem to deal with. He took summer classes, stayed on campus to study nearly every other school break except for a few days over next Christmas. His grades improved with the increased focus. His dad and Scott both learned to tiptoe around the reasons why. 

The rest of the pack lined up on either side. If he's being honest, it was mostly Derek's side. Erica still glares at him sometimes, like how dare he still carry a torch for her alpha. He learned how to interact with them all separately again, without Derek. He knew they all hung out without him occasionally, when their schedules lined up. 

The idea of pushing himself where he's not wanted made his mouth dry up and his hands shake. He stayed away, until staying away was all he knew to do.  
He didn't see Derek again for a year and a half. But he knew that couldn't last.

He knew that he would have to see him at Scott and Allison's wedding, the summer before his senior year. 

Stiles had prepared long diatribes in his head. He'd planned on showing up with a beautiful date, with a fiancée, with some hot dude that'll kick sand in Derek's face.

Of course, he was far too classy to actually fake doing something like that to Derek. 

He was fiddling with the ring box in the pocket of his tux, greeting people and handing out programs. The array of people that Scott and Allison knew was staggering. Apparently, it had become The Place To Be Seen At if you were a hunter and wanted to show how tolerant you were. Stiles made a mental note to thank Allison for making it a wine only wedding reception. As much fun as a sober crazed hunter is, he wouldn't like to see a drunk. 

There was even freaking music from the choir starting up, Stiles thought resentfully as the crowd parted, and he saw Derek. Derek was walking purposefully toward him, looking- well. Sinfully good, of course. But a little haggard.

Derek grabbed him and hugged him, even while Stiles was starting to form a greeting. He gave up and just, let it happen. He settled his arms around his back, a little tentative. Derek did feel skinnier, for some reason. He felt that knot of tension in his chest release. He's always felt good around Derek after he became pack. 

He's always felt safe. 

Derek huffed a breath into his shoulder, squeezed. Stiles noticed Erica behind him. She looked amazing in raspberry red silk, although she was looking angry and- hopeful? Maybe that Stiles will finally be gutted like a fish. She's always been a bit bloody minded.

Like he'd reached an internal timer, Derek released and stepped back. Stiles wanted to grab him again, settled for smoothing his tux down and sweeping his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. Derek looked smaller than he remembered, somehow, the melancholy back in his eyes. 

Stiles scrabbled for something to say, asked about where he was planning on applying after he got out of the academy. Erica lurked behind him, not deigning to talk. Isaac ghosted up behind her. What they found so interesting to watch, Stiles wondered resentfully. 

Conversation stuttering, he motioned to his date across the room. He had just broken up with his last girlfriend the month before, so he asked a friend from college. Jane was gorgeous, fully human, training to be a social worker, and could comfort someone ten feet away. 

Derek was the perfect gentleman when he introduced them. He even smiled, with all of his teeth. 

Isaac looked disappointed, like he wanted the pack to be together. Erica had gone back to looking like she was thinking about if bloodstains would show up on her dress. It was a relief when the ceremony was about to start.

Stiles watched Derek covertly during the ceremony. He clearly could still not control his feelings, despite his time away. He tried not to let that twist in his gut, and failed. 

He and Isaac had to stay afterward for pictures. While he was being positioned and tweaked by the photographers, he stared off. 

He was sure the other werewolves could smell his misery, and they stayed away. Scott was too busy being happy and married, although he did bawl unashamedly during Stiles' toast. Later he over champagne and slung a comforting arm over Stiles' shoulder. 

Jane ended up dancing with Lydia and Boyd for long stretches of the night. A couple times while he was alone at his table, he thought he could smell Derek behind him, hear his voice say something low. But every time he turned around, there was nobody there.

He felt the edge of something, some great realization, creep over him. 

He had tried to leave, and failed. Looking at Derek dancing awkwardly with Allison during the dollar dance, he knew it in his bones. 

He would be wherever Derek was.

With that sharp spike of regret and longing, he can feel himself sobering slightly. He's aware enough to realize his bladder is bursting. The conversation around him still ebbing and flowing, even though he hasn't been a part of it in a long time.

He hauls his drunken self up to go find a likely looking tree. While he's engaged in serious contemplation of the tree's bark at eye level, he hears new voices behind him. He zips himself back up and turns around. Moving with the deliberation of the truly drunk, he walks back to the fire.

Derek's brought two other people back. Stiles recognizes that these are the other alphas. Derek nods at Stiles coolly when he's pointing out his pack. Everybody else nods amiably when Derek indicates them, but Stiles hunches his shoulders and blinks nervously when Derek looks at him.

The man seems bored already. "Yes, yes, puny little runts, I will squish all of you tomorrow!" His stringy gray hair swings as he puffs out a pigeon chest.  
The lady smiles so wide her eyes nearly disappear into wrinkles. "Yakov, you shouldn't make promises you can't deliver." 

Derek nods solemnly as they bicker. Stiles sidles up to him, belches. Derek rolls his eyes, long suffering. 

Mary- for that has to be Rose's alpha she mentioned earlier- catches his eye, and his mouth dries. He feels every part of him straining to sober up and run away. Yakov is talking about something, gesturing, but Stiles can only see her. Her red eyes fill his world.

The alcohol is still there, filling him up with a soft pink fog, but he needs to get out, needs to leave- his instincts are screaming at him that she is a predator, and that she has been doing it for longer than he has- he needs to-

And Derek slips in between them. Stiles looks down, relieved for no reason he can say.

Yakov is still chatting away amiably. Boyd is talking too, big hands making pictures in the air. Yakov squeezes his biceps, pretends to look worried.  
Stiles risks a glance up. Mary is smiling, evaluative. Derek's warm bulk is still angled between them, not touching.

 

Lunch is at the meeting hall. Breakfast was eaten at the campsite quickly, but lunch and dinner were the packs together. Stiles maybe shouldn't have been so surprised to see so much vegan food. It is nicely counterbalanced by most of a dead elk. Mary's clan proudly brings it in and serves it raw. He notices several of the other humans making a face too.

Isaac stays outside with Nymeria and Rose. Nymeria is snoozing happily in the sunshine at their feet. Rose and Isaac are holding hands and quietly talking.  
Inside, Boyd is flirting shamelessly with the younger ladies. Lydia is locked in an argument about biofuel with a lady with more dreadlocks than sense. Allison is gossiping with the other moms while Lya is running around like a crazed toddler with no nap. There's a steady stream of children running in and out of the hall, in various states of clothing.

Stiles helps clean up the dishes and scour the soup pots, but soon finds he wants to leave. There is a knot of older ladies gossiping in a corner, watching him owlishly. Whenever he goes too close to collect dirty dishes, their voices quiet and he feels the back of his neck itching with the weight of their eyes. Mary catches his eye, wiggles her fingers and eyebrows in greeting. Stiles smiles weakly, retreats back to the sink.

Derek ducks inside the dining room with the remnants of the football teams when Stiles is almost out of pans to clean. What's left of the elk doesn't make it after hungry werewolves go after it, although he saves some for the children. Stiles finds himself tracking Derek's progress through the room, helpless to stop himself. Scott sneaks into the kitchen to steal the last of the cornbread and drape himself all over Stiles in a slow motion hug.

"Get off, you big oaf."

Scott smiles and gets mud all over Stiles' clothes, face, and counter. "Make me."

He fights ineffectually for a minute before hooking a finger in his armpit and making him beg for mercy. Once Scott is done assaulting him with sweaty, muddy cuddles, he asks who won.

"The Szabos, probably." Scott says reflectively. "I think they had us beat on points, but we definitely were ahead by two broken noses and three ribs." His teeth gleam when he smiles. He sees Stiles' expression. "When a werewolf tackles you, you stay tackled." 

Stiles resolves to watch tomorrow's game. 

Scott helps him take the leftovers outside, where they are promptly mobbed by werewolf children. He sees Erica in the center of the flash mob, grabbing a slice of elk.

"Oh, shove it, Stilinksi." She says when she sees his face.

Stiles learns, to his eternal glee, that they have elected (democratically, although she smiles when she says it) Erica as their queen. 

Stiles thinks it's less funny when he's taken down by a boy roughly a fifth of his size in a judo move he can definitively trace back to Erica. 

And when he's let up, he's knocked back down, although this time with no finesse at all. Surprisingly deep pitched growls accompany a determined attempt to sever his cervical spine. Thankfully, she hasn't changed fully, so all she does is worry the skin a little.

"Lyanna Victoria McCall!" Scott says, although he's laughing as he says it. 

Erica isn't any help at all, either.

 

The workshop on vermiculture is absolutely fascinating. Stiles is less impressed with the compost lecture, although he thinks he's learned enough to help Isaac get bigger sunflowers. The werewolf who leads it is a little too enthused about humanure for Stiles to fully enjoy the discussion.

**Author's Note:**

> So nearly all of me plotting out the backstory of this was me going, I want Isaac to be insanely happy and get his Ron Swanson on with woodworking and lurking in his workshop happily all day. And he'll have tons of scrapbooks with Family Times written on the front in swirly italics, and Derek makes sure he has enough pictures and glue sticks. One time they ran out of stickers, and Derek lurked in the silk flowers section while he was waiting because he felt too uncomfortable anywhere else. It was the closest to nature he could get, and the ladies kept giggling aggressively at him. 
> 
> And then Isaac got a puppy, and called it Nymeria because clearly, what else are you going to do? I think Derek would like A Song of Ice and Fire. Although he'd wanted to name her Brienne instead, or maybe Balerion.
> 
> Mostly this story happened because I didn't get to go camping this summer, and I get to look forward to another Ohio winter. So here is my wistful thoughts about camping where I grew up. 
> 
> I'm trying to get myself motivated to finish this sucker, I kind of stalled out.


End file.
